


love's a game

by iwritetrash



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: (you best be grateful this ends happily), Edward Drummond Lives, Edward is Horny, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Picks up from s02e03, Resolved Sexual Tension, Scotland, Slow Burn (kinda), Teasing, aka the one where they wear matching outfits, some minor angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: every time edward sees alfred, they begin a slow dance of seduction, waiting on tenterhooks for one of them to take that final step towards something more.





	love's a game

**Author's Note:**

> who doesn't love a good bit of mutual pining which is eventually resolved? 
> 
> i just felt an urge to write in depth about edward pining for alfred and alfred doing his best to seduce edward and convince him to make the first move, and this is the result of that urge.
> 
> i'm currently working on a longer immortal au, but i don't really have the endurance for longer fics so i'll either ditch it or spend a long time on it i guess. i also need to write the next part of all that lives must die (maria's pov here i come) so really this is actually a procrastination fic which distracted me from my other wips.... oops...
> 
> anyway i hope you like it :)

It’s rather a fun game, really, hiding their relationship from everyone around them. Well, the consequences if they lose are quite dire, and really not very fun at all, but the game itself is rather amusing.

They steal moments in crowded rooms, eyes meeting in the middle of a dance, passing grins to one another like a schoolboy might pass a note. Alfred has learned just how to tease him.

He finds Edward outside the ballroom, doublet and shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes raking over Edward with a look that challenges him, _begs_ him to push it further. Edward’s hands ache to undo the rest of the buttons on that ridiculous doublet which matches his own, to take Alfred to bed and ravish him, to touch every single inch of his body and yet… He cannot do a single one of those things.

Instead, they speak in code, and it seems Alfred is quite happy with what he deciphers, if the look he gives Edward before he leaves is anything to go by. Alfred has Edward exactly where he wants him.

That night, as Edward lies awake, he remembers the memory of Alfred’s hand brushing his as he slipped past and disappeared down the corridor. His skin has been tingling since they touched, the sensation lingering like a permanent reminder of Alfred’s presence. It is on nights like these that Edward comes to fear the power Alfred has over him; Edward is quite certain that he would do anything, so long as it was Alfred who asked him to do it.

Morning breaks eventually, and the game is resumed. Every time they meet, no matter where they are, they begin the same cautious ballet, dancing around each other with the delicacy of those handling something quite fragile, afraid of breaking the tentative balance they’ve reached. They find themselves at the tipping point of the scales, teetering constantly as they toe the line of something more, yet neither dares to push too hard. This fragile equilibrium will do just fine for now.

Edward finds it near impossible, however, not to pounce on Alfred every second that they’re together, Alfred fixing those blue eyes on him with a practically ravenous look, as though Edward is a delicacy he wants to devour. It takes all of his restraint to maintain his composure; it is all a part of the game they play, he tells himself. 

Months, no, _years_ , of this game leave Edward so tightly wound that he hardly thinks it possible for him to hold himself back any longer, so when he sees Alfred stood in front of the sunset, looking like an angel sent to earth, so ethereal somehow with the setting sun bouncing off of his golden hair, he finds he cannot think of a better moment. He kisses him. It is everything Edward has hoped and waited and pined for all these years, and yet it still isn’t enough. His hands are shaking, scrambling to touch Alfred wherever he’ll let him, desperate for more, always more.

Alfred comes to his room that night, and finally, _finally_ , the game ends, and Edward is able to hold Alfred, and kiss him, and touch him, and make love to him the way he has been desperate to for far too long. As they lie in bed after, hands intertwined, Edward’s skin tingles everywhere that they touched, everywhere Alfred’s hands and lips had been, reminding him of long nights praying for this moment.

There was a time, Edward thinks, before Alfred, and before Edward changed so drastically to become the man he now sees when he looks at himself in the mirror. When they first met, Edward was a stiff politician, with high expectations, and a fiancée he thought he loved, and yet now it feels as though every aspect of his soul has been reversed because of Alfred. The man he was all those years ago is hardly recognisable as a version of himself, because it seems rather apparent now that he was missing a large piece of his heart or his soul, he isn’t quite sure which yet.

In fact, he feels more himself now, in the Scottish Highlands with Alfred lying next to him in bed than he ever had in those stuffy Houses of Parliament, or with Florence, or with Sir Robert. It is as though he has been returned to himself when he had lost his way, and for that he has Alfred to thank.

They stay there until the sun begins to rise, bodies wrapped around each other, eyes constantly watching one another as though they are desperate to memorise this precise moment, for fear it may never happen again. When they get up, they will have to enter polite company and the game will start all over again – stolen moments and secret glances will forever be the backbone of their relationship – and yet Edward hopes it shall not be so hard this time. Having won the game, he now thinks it will not be so challenging to win again. 

But that is a matter to think on later; these last few moments are so precious, as the sun creeps above the horizon. Soon Alfred will have to get out of bed and sneak back to his own room, but for now he rests in Edward’s arms, ethereal in the morning light, hair messy from the night before, hands soft as they ghost over Edward’s skin.

Edward’s lips find his for another kiss. 

_Stay_ , he whispers, breath washing over Alfred’s face, _just for a little while_.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! let me know what you thought!


End file.
